I guess I have always been
a feminist. A feminist in the sense that
I believe that all genders are equal. The older I get, the more deeply I believe
that, and the less I care about people who judge me for it.
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| Apparently this is what a feminist looks like while watering the garden |
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The night before the election at a big rally in Virginia |
In the 2016 presidential
election I was unabashedly on TEAM HILLARY.
I had a big yard sign. I sported
t-shirts. I watched the debates (and played debate BINGO). I was all in.
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| Ready for GOP Bingo - early on in the campaigning season |
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| Peace, Love, Hillary (canvasing with my partner 2 days before the election - we knocked on 49 doors and talked to 59 people) |
I live in Arlington, VA,
very near DC, and on election day, November 8th , I had a job in
town. When work was done I made my way
to the White House and stood in front of it in my pantsuit, worn specially for the
occasion. I cried. I could just feel the energy!! I knew this was the day – this was it! Hillary
was going to be president.
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| Pantsuit on, White House ready (I thought...) |
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| Casting my ballot later that evening - more tears. But these were HOPEFUL tears, tears of CONVICTION and belief |
I didn’t know it yet as I stood
in the sunshine at the White House, but as the day and night wore on it became more
and more apparent that the history I had been so confident would happen was not
to be. Like so many people across the
country, I stayed up staring at the TV until the wee hours of the morning. I bawled.
My mouth hung open in shock and amazement for most of the night. I could not believe what was happening.
The next morning dawned
and I woke up with a puffy face and red eyes.
Obviously, life went on. It took
a few days for it all to sink in. I did
some serious soul searching, and I realized something:
I knew all along that I was
not voting for Hillary because she was a woman. I feel that many people who voted for the other
candidate voted for him because he was NOT
a woman (i.e. – he was a man…), but I honestly believe that Hillary’s
gender was not the defining factor
for me when considering for whom to cast my vote. No. I voted
for Hillary because she was the most
qualified candidate, the person who would do the best at the monumental job
she was “applying” for.
But in those days after
the election, it hit me. We have never, ever had a female president. I mean, obviously I knew that fact, but once
Hillary lost, it hit me hard. We have
NEVER elected a woman. Never.
59 other countries have
elected a woman to lead them. The list
is long and includes places like India, France, Pakistan, Brazil, and
Liberia. How can all of these countries –
59 of them – have believed more in equality than the United States?? Is that not a bit horrifying to you?
I didn’t realize until
after the election how important it is to me to have someone in authority who
is like me. A woman. Every man who voted
in the 2016 election, and every man who has ever voted in this country, knows
the feeling of having a leader who is in some fundamental way like him. And every single woman in our country does
not know that feeling.
But I WILL know that feeling. Someday, the
misogyny in our country will be beaten. A
woman will rise to the highest level,
and I will likely cry again.
And when that happens, I will
open this bottle of champagne that I bought to celebrate as we watched the 2016
election returns come in. I haven’t open
it yet, didn’t have any reason to. But today,
almost 10 months after the election, I finally made a sign to place on it and
tied it on. I squirreled the bottle away
for safe keeping.
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| This champagne will wait. But it, and I, will be READY. |
And when the day comes
that a WOMAN is elected PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED
STATES, I will open that champagne with such glee. I will drink and laugh and cry and
shout. And if this election takes years
and years and years to come to fruition, and if the champagne has gone off and
tastes horrible by then, I will still laugh, and cry, and DRINK IT. Because
there will be reason to celebrate.
And if I do not live to
see that beautiful future November day, then you can bet a female relative or
friend will have my bottle of champagne in front of them and will open it and
make a toast to history and to women.
Because you better believe that even though that champagne was not
expensive, it is DEAR, and it will be
passed down in my will if need be. So
sisters, friends, niece, great-niece – whoever ends up with this bottle should I
not have reason to drink it in my lifetime – do me a favor, make a toast and
shed a tear for me on that historic day.
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